


Locked down

by TheIceQueen



Series: Sam's blue book [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood, Comforting Sam, Confusion, Doctors & Physicians, Fever, Gore, Hurt Dean, Hurt/Comfort, Infection, Injury, Major Character Injury, Medical, Medical Procedures, Pain, Painkillers, Passing Out, Restraints, Stitches, Torture, Unconsciousness, Vampires, Worried Sam, knifes, probably medical inaccuracies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-28 12:38:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11418159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIceQueen/pseuds/TheIceQueen
Summary: After taking down a nest of vampires Sam has to find and take care of a tortured Dean.





	1. Chapter 1

Dean almost choked in his scream. Warm blood was running down his lover arm from where the knife had craved a long slash.

“Let me just…”

“No! Not yet. We need information.”

The younger vampire watched the blood dripping on the floor, but stepped back at the command. The elder looked at Dean once again.

“Now, how many are you?”

Dean looked directly into the angry eyes. He’d already told them that he was the only hunter.

Him and Sam had followed a trail of dead bodies and missing persons-reports to a town nearby and ended up taken down quite the nest. Thereafter they had spilt up to make sure there was no one left in the surrounding area.

“Twenty-five.”

He smiled by the surprise on the vampire’s eyes. The look quickly turned back to anger, though.

The hunter’s head flew back as he arced his back in pain and screamed out once again. The knife was tip first, deep into the gash from before.

“Hunters don’t work like that.”

The vampire started turning the knife, like a slow drill. Dean almost threw up from the pain. He felt the ragged motion of resistance in the movement of the blade. The tip was definitely boring into the bone. For a moment, he went blind and if he hadn’t been chained to the chair he would have hit the floor.

“Try with the truth this time!”

The creature stopped moving the knife but still with the blade deeply in the wound, pressing at the bone. For a second Dean wondered if the bone or the knife would break first. He closed his eyes to gather himself.

Something warm spayed across his face. He opened his eyes just in time to see the headless body fall to the ground and taking the knife with it. In the other side of the dark room he could just make out someone fighting the younger vampire.

“Sam?!”

Another head rolled through the room and one of the fighting bodies fell to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam find refuge in a closed off hunter's cabin and take a closer look at Dean's injuries.

Sam dropped the bloody machete and rushed to his brother. Dean was bound to a chair placed in the middle of the room. The only lamp in the room was hanging from the ceiling right over him. It didn’t offer much light, though and Sam had difficulty evaluating the injuries, while he worked on the chains. Dean had a deep cut on the inside of his lover left arm. It was bleeding heavily but it didn’t seem like any arteries were cut. He took off his shirt and wrapped it tightly around the forearm. Dean hissed and hunched forward around his arm as Sam placed it against upper body.

“Keep adding pressure.”

Dean just nodded and pressed his arm firmly against his chest, while Sam picked the last locks and removed the other restrains.

“Are you hurt anywhere else? Can you walk?”

Sam picked up the machete and assessed his brother’s appearance once again. He was definitely in pain but there didn’t seem to be anything seriously wrong besides the arm. They needed to get that looked at sooner rather than later.

“Just some bumps and bruises.”

He shifted and let Sam pull his good arm over his head and levitate him from the chair. At times like this Sam was happy he was the bigger one. Honestly, he didn’t know how Dean would manage if it was the other way around, but he would.

-

“We can’t go back into town. I kinda pissed a few people of trying to find you.”

Sam was driving and Dean was leaning forward in the passenger seat.

“People?”

Sam could feel the investigative look from his older brother, but he kept his own eyes on the road.

“Cops.”

The younger brother didn’t miss a huff and slight shake of head coming from the hurt hunter. He was obviously not surprised with the uproar Sam had created. Maybe he was even a bit amused.

“Where to then?”

“I noticed a hunters-cabin a bit up the road. We need to get your arm fixed before we drive any longer.”

Silence filled the car as they drove up a small gravel road and Sam pulled up next to an old cabin, which looked closed down for the season. Sam noticed the windows was intact and the door was locked and was a bit reassured that it wasn’t abandoned. He decided to pick the lock before helping Dean out of the car.

“Are we sure there are no bloodsuckers left?”

“Yeah. Those were the last two. Just stay there for a sec.”

When Sam got the door open Dean already had his feet on the ground and was trying to stand. Sam came to his assistance and locked him in a grip so he wouldn’t fall.

“I’m okay, Sammy.”

“I can see that, but please just take it easy. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

Sam maneuvered his brother through the door and to the only bed in the room. He made sure Dean was comfortable on the bed before leaving to drive the Impala round back so no one accidently saw it.

He came back in the room with their duffle-bags, put on a new t-shirt and looked through the bags again to find the first-aid-kid. He placed it on a two-persons-dining-table and pulled the table closer to Dean.

Dean reached out for the light on the wall but didn’t quite make it. Sam grabbed him just in time to keep him from falling off the bed.

“Let me. Just lie down, will you?”

While he lit the oil-lamp, he looked at his older brother as he placed himself on his back. His face had a grayish white color. He was dizzy, Sam could see that, he just wasn’t sure if it was from pain or blood loss. Maybe both. No matter what, he had to stop the bleeding and close the wound fast.

“Sam.”

Dean had stopped Sam as he’d taken hold of the hurt wrist, which was still pressed against Dean’s now bloodied t-shirt. Sam followed his brothers line of sight and his gaze landed on a liquor cabinet across the room and he instantly got the drift.

“You probably need disinfectant anyway.” He said as he walked over to inspect the shelves.

He came back and handed Dean a bottle of whiskey and placed the gin on the table. Dean looked at it and downed almost a quarter of the bottle in his hand.

“Hey. Ease up man!”

Sam pulled the bottle from the already tipsy hunter. He should have known, he would do that. His brother did tend to forget the margins of what to drink when he was in pain.

“C’mon. It hurts like a son of a bitch, already. Can’t you play doctor after I pass out?”

Sam sighed.

“You can’t be wasted for this, your blood wont clot.”

Dean knew this all too well. It wasn’t their first time, but Sam knew he hated stitches and there was no way of denying what was going to happen. Dean relaxed his head back and Sam took a hold of his wrist to move his arm away from his chest. Careful not to touch where the wound was.

Dean tensed up, but didn’t move as his arm was straightened out down his side, palm up. Sam carefully unwrapped his shirt from the arm to reveal that the wound was still bleeding heavily. The slash wasn’t long, maybe five inches, from the middle of the forearm and almost to the inside of the elbow, but it was deep. He couldn’t really see more with all the blood and the poor lighting. Sam pressed the shirt on wound, provoking a growl from Dean, while he was picking the needle and thread from the bag, with his other hand. He took hold of the bottle of gin and removed the cap with his teeth.

“Ready?”

He looked at his older brother, who was staring firmly at the ceiling. He hadn’t looked down at his wound yet. Sam knew that Dean was using all of his energy not to move. He nodded once and the younger brother poured the gin over the wound.

A cry of pain filled the room and Dean twisted to get away from the burning feeling. Sam wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Dean make a sound like that, but he held on tight to his brother’s arm and concentrated on the wound. He had to make sure what was going on there before it filled with blood again and he couldn’t see it.

The wound was ragged. The knife must have been dull, it looked like most of it was torn and not cut. The middle of the cut was deeper and there was another cut from it, going outwards on the arm. The knife must have made that when the vampire fell to the ground. All together it made the wound tricky to sew up but the thing that worried Sam the most, was that he wasn’t sure stitches would do the job. Dean might need underlying sutures and that didn’t fall inside his field of experience.

He decided to sew up the wound the best he could and then find a hospital or a doctor the next day, if needed. This could go for a hunting accident and there is always something in season.

He put the needle to the skin and noticed that Dean held his breath.

“Here we go.”

Sam took a deep determined breath and started working. His brother was shaking from the pain, but not enough to make it too difficult. As the needle pulled through for the third time Dean had to breathe.

“Dammit, Sam!” He hissed through his teeth.

Sam was sewing with one hand, the other was still occupied at Dean’s wrist, holding him still. Sewing the wide wound was getting more difficult closer to the middle though and he was beginning to consider tying his brothers arm to the metal frame of the bed.

“I need both hands. You have to hold still, Dean.”

“Sure thing, little brother.”

The annoyance in Dean’s voice didn’t succeed in masking his worry, but Sam felt the resistance against his hand almost disappear so he started up again. Dean didn’t move his arm but he kept arching his head back and swearing from time to time.

Sam hated to do this to his brother, to see him in pain like that was horrible. In times like these they needed stronger painkillers than alcohol. As Sam squeezed the edges of the wound together at the center and pressed the needle in the skin to close up the three-way-cut, Dean’s whole body went rigid and then limp. Sam sighed with relief and finished up as fast as possible so Dean wouldn’t wake up to more pain.

-

Sam was at the little stove, heating up some beef stew, luckily the cabin was fully stocked with canned foods. They could actually live here for a while, without needing anything. That’s except medicine of course. He looked at his brother, still passed out on the bed, and automatically put his hand on the little blue book in his back pocket. He was reassured a bit, by the fact that the stitches had been enough to almost stop the bleeding completely, but he still wasn’t sure it would be enough to make the wound heal completely. Sam picked up the book and looked at it. He knew there was a name of someone in there who had medical training and they could get to in under five hours.

“Sammy?”

Sam dropped the book on the kitchen desk and ran to sit on the chair by his brother’s side.

“I’m here. How’re you feeling?”

Dean had regained some color to his face and actually looked okay. Confused, but okay.

“Like my arm was a werewolf’s chew toy... do I have a hangover?”

Sam chuckled and looked at the whiskey bottle.

“You’ll be fine. That part you’ve done before. I have to change your bandage and then you can eat.”

Dean didn’t look like food was the first thing on his mind, as a matter of fact he looked a bit sickened by the suggestion. The bandage was too bloody for Sam’s comfort, but Dean seemed to handle the pain reasonably well, so he just put the next one on a bit tighter. He offered his brother a few aspirins and some over the counter antibiotics followed by a bowl of food and a look that didn’t open up for any discussion.

After they’d eaten, Sam made a bed for himself on the floor and when he laid down he heard the calm and deep breathing of his already sleeping older brother.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam wakes up to the sound of wrong. This is not over.

Dean’s breathing had undeniably changed. Sam had had trouble finding a comfortable position on the hard floor. The quilt he’d laid down didn’t offer much luxury. Finally, he’d fallen asleep while listening to Dean’s substantial and sound breathing. Now, he’d waken up, he was cold but before he thought about finding another blanket, he noticed the breathing coming from the dark part of the room, where the bed was.

It was cutting through the room like a handsaw. Sharp, shallow and strenuous. Something was wrong. Sam fumbled to find the lamp and light in the dark. As he sat down and hung the lamp un the wall over Dean he saw his brother covered in a gleaming layer of sweat. He was a sleep but tossing and turning like he couldn’t get comfortable, his arm was once again pulled up to his torso and the other was holding it firmly in place.

“Dean? Wake up.”

Sam put a hand on his forehead and instantly got up and filled a pot with cold water. Frantically he used towels and pillowcases to wet and wrap around his brother’s ankles and knees. He placed one under his neck and tried to take hold of the wrists to wrap them too, but had to settle with placing a wet towel over them. It seemed like, holding his arms close to him, was the only task Dean had right now. Sam soaked a wash cloth in the cold water and started washing the face of the shaking guy in front of him.

“Dean. Please. Talk to me.”

The cold seemed to ease the trembling a bit, but Dean was still not responding and Sam knew that they needed help, but he had no idea where to go.

They were in the middle of nowhere, no internet, the doctors were probably not big on advertising online anyway. There were almost a six-hour drive to Salt Lake City where the nearest hospital, he knew of, were. Why didn’t he go look for someone last night? He could have asked one of the locals, but now it was 2 am and he couldn’t leave Dean. There was no time either.

The blue book was still on the kitchen desk. He looked through it. He was sure he’d written that name down…

Found what he was looking for on page four:

_LIEUT. ROBERT J. HAMMOND M.D._

_BEAVER, UT._

_(435) 421-6312_

-

Third time he called there was an answer.

“Yeah?”

The elder man sounded more tired than annoyed.

“Em… Hey.”

Sam suddenly realized that he didn’t prepare what to say, and as he didn’t know who he was calling the words didn’t come easy. A few weeks earlier he had noticed the name in their father’s journal, next to a note that said; “can help” and decided to add it to his own book.

“Sorry for waking you, but…”

“Are you hurt?”

The man suddenly sounded awake and Sam got the feeling it wasn’t the first time he’d been woken up like this.

“No. My brother. He’s got an infection and has a bad fever.”

He looked in the review mirror to check on Dean. He was still not awake and Sam had had to carry him to the car. He was on his side with both hands still tight to his chest, Sam could see the sweat glistening on his forehead and adding to the wetness from the soaked towels.

“Where are you?”

“We’re on the way…”

Sam’s stomach knotted. What if he’d moved?!

“…Please tell me you are still in Beaver.”

“I am. How far out are you?”

“About 3 and a half hours, I think… If I don’t get lost.”

“South Main Street. Call me if you are in doubt of the direction. I’ll turn on the porch light.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After driving for over four hours with Dean unconscious on the back seat, they are met by a former army doctor.

Half past 6, Sam parked the Impala in front of a red two-story house. It was a Saturday and this early the place was a ghost-town. It was the only house with the light on.

He anxiously opened the rear door and took a hold of his limp brother. Sam had been conflicted about stopping and taking care of Dean or keep on driving for over four hours, but he’d kept on going, knowing that there was nothing he could do, but get him to a doctor. He pulled under Dean’s arms to get him out of the car and carried him bridal-style towards the porch.

“Sam?”

It was only a raw whisper. Sam wasn’t sure if Dean was aware of what was going on or if he was dreaming.

“I got you, Dean. Just hang in there.”

They were met in the door, by an elderly man. He showed them through the kitchen to a room that could resemble a small clinic but not quite. There was glass-cupboards with medicine and against one wall a long table with a sink. In the middle, there was a padded table. Sam was pleased with seeing that the room was well lit and clean.

“It’s not much, but as a retired army doc. I might as well help where I can.”

The doctor nodded towards the table and Sam placed Dean carefully on it. The hunter was still shifting and tossing around like he had a terrible nightmare. Sam had to hold him in place so he wouldn’t fall off, not that there was any way he would stray from his brother’s side.

The doctor pushed a chair to Sam and moved to the other side himself, locking eyes on the bandaged arm.

“This is it?”

Sam nodded

“I stitched it up… didn’t have a choice. He was bleeding a lot.”

Sam knew it was true, but he wished to God he’d drove the passed-out Dean to a professional last night.

“Okay let’s have a look.”

The doctor was putting stuff on a small metal table. Sam didn’t really pay attention. He was concentrating on his brothers breathing, which had gotten squeakier during the drive. The table was rolled over to Dean’s side and the man sat down. He took a hold at Dean’s arms but there was no moving them from his chest. Sam held on to the other arm and lifted it just enough so the Doctor could get his hand under it and around the wrist of the hurt arm.

Sam got closer to his brother’s ear.

“It’s okay, Dean. Let the doctor help you. Give him your arm.”

It didn’t seem like he heard anything. Sam hadn’t counted on it, either. He’d been unresponsive all night but obviously in a lot of pain.  

The elder man reached out and grabbed some bandages and pried Dean’s arm out. Dean moaned in pain and discomfort, but with the good arm no longer occupied, he was able to hold tight on his brother’s hand in his. Sam held on tight and used the other hand to try and steady Dean’s head.

He looked at the other arm, that was now tied to an armrest on a chair, the bandage that had been hidden from view in hours had spots of yellow and orange fluid soaking it. He stiffened by the sight. The lover arm and hand was swollen and looked extremely painful. It wasn’t the look in itself that made him queasy, but the fact that Dean was in so much distress was making Sam almost throw up.

Sam hadn’t noticed the doctor even moving, before he was next to him, taking Dean’s other hand from him. He offered Sam a wash-cloth and a small bowl of water. The younger brother turned to wash sweat from, and cool down the face and neck of the elder. When the doctor had finished attaching the IV, Sam instinctively grabbed it again, still focusing on his task though.

The army doctor must have seen a lot worse than this. He didn’t talk much. Sam was content with not talking though, he could break down crying any moment, right now he just held it together to help where he could and being by his brother’s side. He didn’t feel like answering too many questions either. The man was from dad’s journal, but what did he really know?

The doctor unwrapped the bandage, he left the last layer on and drenched it with water before trying to remove it.

Dean’s cried out in pain, his eyes flew open and his head and torso lifted from the table. Sam stood up and pressed him back down.

“Hey. Bro, it’s okay. Take it easy.”

Sam caught eye-contact with his brother for half a second, before he went back to his previous state.

A greyish yellow goo was oozing from the center, where the two cuts came together. The skin around the wound was an angry red and the swollen arm made it pull the stitches. It looked like it could burst open any minute.

“You did disinfect it first, right?”

“Of course, but…”

Sam looked at the lieutenant. He was broad shouldered man, almost appeared square and with the short, grey hair he fit the part of a veteran completely. He was a man on a mission, but to Sam it seemed like he was not without compassion.

“What did you use?”

“Gin.”

“Hunters…” The man shook his head.

Sam could have sworn he’d said it with a smile but his back was already turned to the boys. Then he came back with a syringe and sat down by Dean again.

“Allergies?”

“No.”

Sam looked at Dean’s face, waiting with anticipation for the pain to subside. Sure enough, during the next few minutes of conversation Dean started to relax his face and his breathing got a bit slower.

“The stitches look new. I guess last night?”

Sam nodded.

“It shouldn’t be so bad for such a short time. Gin is not great, but it can normally get the job done. I’ll ad some antibiotics to the IV.”

“It is kinda deep.”

Sam felt the pondering eyes on him but didn’t look away from Dean’s face, still wetting his forehead.

“What exactly were you boys hunting?”

Sam hadn’t had time to research what was in season and with the hunter’s cabin closed off it couldn’t be much. The doctor must have noticed his hesitation.

“Who sent you my way?”

Sam looked up.

“John Winchester.”

Sam could basically see all the pieces fall in place in the others mind.

“So, you are _that_ kind of hunters?”

Sam nodded in relief. No more explanations or questions. They were in the same universe. The doctor shifted his attention back to Dean.

Dean had stopped tossing around, and Sam didn’t have to concentrate on keeping him on the table anymore. He was still shivering and sweating but the nightmare he’d seemed to have, had now ceded and merely seemed like a vivid dream.

“I’ll take a look at this, there must be something in there. You just keep doing what you do and hold him still.”

Sam moved in a bit closer and moved his hand, still holding Dean’s on to the heaving chest, and the doctor started cutting the stitches open.

“Just relax, Dean. You’ll be better soon.”

Sam did his best not to look at the arm and just keep his brother calm, though he didn’t know if he’d even hear him.

With the touch of the working doctor Dean started fighting the restraints.

“Shhh, Bro. He’s helping you. It’s okay.”

“Sam?”

Sam gasped.

“I’m here.”

“Sammy?”

Dean was still not opening his eyes but he was a bit calmer on the table and his head was mainly turning in Sam’s direction.

“Dean. Look at me. Dean. Can you hear me? Open your eyes. Dean?”

Dean went silent again and for the next half an hour the only sound in the room was the voice of Sam calming his unconscious older brother.

“Here we go.” The doctor said and Sam saw the tweezers drop a small metal object on the table.

“I’ll clean and close up now.”

Sam sighed in relief, comforted with knowing it was almost over and that the reason of the problem was found.

Twenty minutes later, the doctor was putting in the last stitches. The result was much better than Sam’s attempt, but underlying stitches had been required for closing it right and without them it would have been a mess again.

Dean turned his head toward Sam, who was still talking to him. His eyes started flickering.

“Dean?”

Dean made a sound that could have been a “what?” if he’d opened his mouth.

“Dean. Are you awake?”

“Sam? ..s… you?”

“It’s me. Can you open your eyes?”

Dean opened his eyes, oh so slowly. Sam held his breath. Dean squinted against the bright light in the room, then he noticed the feeling of being restrained and someone touching his arm. He pulled and fought the bandages holding his arm still.

“Calm down, Dean. It’s fine. He’s helping.”

Sam grabbed the shoulders of his confused brother.

“What the hell, Sam?”

“Just look at me. Okay. He’s almost done.”

Dean relaxed back into the padding and looked at his little brother. He still seemed confused and disorientated, but he stayed calm.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confused Dean wakes up in an unfamiliar place.

“All done. I won’t close the bandage before the swelling had gone down, so for now just try and lay still.”

He placed a few pieces of gauze over the neatly sewn up wound and started to clean up his workspace.

“What happened? Where are… Who...?”

“Ease up. One question at a time.”

Dean looked around the room, studying the elder man washing something in the corner, then rested his eyes on Sam. He didn’t say anything else, but Sam understood that explaining was in order.

“Your arm got infected and you got a fever so I drove you here. Lieutenant Hammond fixed you up. He pulled the tip of the knife out of the wound. It must have broken off when the vampire fell.”

Sam noticed Dean’s reaction to the talk about vampires.

“He know…”

“It’s just Doc. Robert now.” The doctor cut him off.

The elder guy returned to Dean’s side. Dean instinctively shifting away. He hissed at the sudden pain, from pulling the restraints on his arm.

“I know about hunting. I’ve helped your father out more than once.”

Sam was surprised. He hadn’t told him that John Winchester was their father.

“How do you know. I mean I didn’t tell you about… I mean… that he was our dad.”

“Calm down Sam. We never did formal introductions. There wasn’t much time for that.” He looked at Dean’s arm then at Dean, who was eagerly following the conversation too make just a bit of sense from the situation.

“You called him Dean… a lot.” The old man was smiling at Sam. “And I’m sure he said Sam when you first arrived. When you told me that John had sent you it all came together. He talked about you a lot.”

The old man paused and Sam wondered if he was trying to remember something or just deciding if he should say it.

“Did you say; he _was_ your dad?”

Sam nodded and tried to find a place to look where there wasn’t eyes looking back at him.

“It’s been some months now.”

“Damn.”

Doc. Robert sat down.

“He was a great guy. Truth be told he helped me out first.”

There was a moment of silence, before Dean broke it.

“So, I’m good to go, now?”

Sam turned back to the situation in front of him and by the looks of it, the doctor did too. Dean still looked pale and was sweating from fever, he looked weak and the loud breathing worried Sam.

“You still have a fever.” The doctor placed a thermometer in the corner of Dean’s mouth. “Let’s keep an eye on that, so we’re sure it’s still going down. Now, if you feel up to it. Can you move your fingers? Slowly.”

Sam watched as Dean’s index and thumb started twitching, slightly. The hand was still extremely swollen and Sam didn’t think it would even be possible for his brother to move it more than that, but slowly the fingers curled. The other three followed and with a locked jaw and fixed gaze to his hand Dean almost managed to make a fist.

“Perfect. Just relax now.”

Dean relaxed his body, but didn’t look satisfied with his achievement, at all. The doctor took the thermometer from Dean.

“104.”

Sam gasped. Was it really still that high? Dean must have been close to dying earlier. It suddenly made sense that he’d been unresponsive and having nightmares.

Doc. Robert started to untie the restraints.

“I trust you’ll keep your arm still?”

He looked at Dean while moving the arm to lie on the bed next to him. Dean pulled a face trying to conceal the pain from the movement and nodded.

“Looks like you need another dose of painkillers.”

The pale hunter, tried to look like he was pleasing the doctor, but Sam could see the relief on his face.

“You shouldn’t move around just now. We have an extra room upstairs you guys can stay in, but let’s get the fever and the swelling down first, okay?”

“Whatever you say Doc.”

With that, Dean relaxed his head into the pillow and looked at the ceiling as the morphine made its way through the IV. Just moments after he was out.

The doctor went to the kitchen and when he was sure that Dean was out, Sam followed.

“Is he going to be okay?”

“I believe so. Coffee?”

Sam was confused for a moment but then accepted gratefully.

“I’ve given him morphine, not enough to knock him out, but he’s exhausted. We need to keep an eye on his temperature to make sure his fever is going down. I’m not convinced that it was much higher when you came than now, the pain could have added to his response and made it look worse.”

Sam didn’t know if that was a good thing, but the old man didn’t seem to worry all that much.

-

“Sam?”

Sam woke up with a cramp in his leg. He’d fallen asleep on a bench in the kitchen. He staggered in the other room to find Dean half awake and the doctor already there. He almost made it to Dean’s side before asking.

“How’re you feeling.”

“Better, actually. This guy is a miracle worker. Where did you find him?”

Dean was smiling. He looked tired but he was waking up beginning to sound like his usual quick-witted self.

“Dad’s journal.”

“Maybe we should read that from one end to the other sometime… Wait you’ve already done that, right?”

Sam just settled down on the chair, next to his brother. Dean knew he had, multiple times. There couldn’t be may pages left that Dean hadn’t, at least looked at, either. Sam looked at Doc. Robert as he put the thermometer back in Dean’s mouth and they were all quiet while he took his pulse.

“Pulse is great, temperature at 102.”

Sam realized that he hadn’t been breathing while this was going on and took a deep breath of relief.

“Let me check the wound and swelling, I’ll put a bandage on it and then you can move to a real bed.”

-

There was a knock on the door and Sam got up to open it. A young girl stepped in with a tray and the smell of bacon and pancakes filled the small bedroom they had moved to.

“My dad said you should eat… both of you.”

Sam took the tray from her hands and thanked her. The red-headed girl looked at the nearest bed where Dean was trying to sit up.

“My sister usually cooks when we have guests, but she’s away for school. I hope it’s okay.”

 “It looks great. Thank you so much.”

Sam didn’t lie either. He would probably have eaten burnt and cold oatmeal right now, but the tray looked like heaven to him.

The girl smiled and turned on the spot. She closed the door carefully after herself.

Sam put the tray down and turned to help his brother sit up.

“You know you will have to wait at least five years to even consider that.”

Dean looked at the door where the girl had disappeared.

“Then again, her father is a lieutenant, so you may be better of just forgetting about her.”

Sam didn’t say anything, just shook his head. He was grateful though. Grateful that the Dean he knew was back, and that the hurt Winchester was using both hands to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do have a problems keeping these stories short.
> 
> Please, let me know what you think in the comments.


End file.
